I’m a little late with this, but I thought I’d clamber aboard the bandwagon which has been rolling loud and proud to celebrate Paul’s 80th birthday. A few media outlets pitched in with their lists of the best McCartney songs, but I wanted to be a little more nerdy about it and drill down to specific moments, or elements, in his music. Little things which have always entranced me, aspects of his art in microcosm that make my hair stand on end, send a shiver of pleasure through me and leave me shaking my head in wonder. And not just in songs that he has written either – his myriad of inventive contributions to material from the other Beatles invariably elevated it to an even higher plain.
It will often be a vocal performance or guitar part, but will sometimes be an arresting lyric or fiendishly clever arrangement. Once you start going through his career, the list is almost endless. In fact, while some songs are better than others, there are hardly any which don’t feature something of interest, something to enjoy. Soon after I first began to take a serious interest in The Beatles, Paul released ‘Spies Like Us’, which I sang the praises of to my friends at school. One of them said: “You only like that because it’s Paul McCartney”, something which has always stayed with me. Because, in a way, he was right; not in the sense that I praised the song purely because it was made by a Beatle, but rather I liked it because it was infused with the same talent which created so many other tunes that had made me fall in love with music. I like almost all his songs, to some degree, because they’re Paul McCartney. He’s pretty good. And, starting in this post and continuing next time, I’ve picked out 80 reasons why.
These aren’t necessarily always the best songs he’s written or helped produce (although, inevitably, many of them are from his top rank). They just represent a selection of magical moments which litter his back catalogue, and capture something about his appeal to me. I’ve stuck to examples that I’m pretty certain were purely down to him, rather than the other Fabs, George Martin, Elvis Costello or some other collaborator. In some instances I have cheated a bit, citing different aspects or the same song, or including a few tracks which illustrate a similar point. But hey, it’s my list, so I make (and bend) the rules. So, without further ado and in no particular order, let’s go.
1. The harmony vocals on ‘Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)’ (Rubber Soul, 1965), especially on the “She told me she worked in the morning…” bit. The song really takes flight then. And his bass guitar notes are like depth charges.
2. His joyous guitar solo in ‘The Man’ (Pipes of Peace, 1983). If you’re feeling down when it starts, you won’t be by the time it ends.
3. The dazzling vocal during the second half of ‘Love is Strange’ (Wild Life, 1971), especially from “My sweet ba-by…” on. Sheer passion and prowess.
4. That cheeky little bass fill towards the end of ‘Everybody’s Got Something To Hide (Except for Me and My Monkey)’ (The Beatles, 1968). Irresistible.
5. The unsettling brass arrangement which closes out ‘San Ferry Anne’ (Wings at the Speed of Sound, 1976), reflecting the sad, unresolved fate of its title character.
6. The line ‘It was written that I would love you/From the moment I opened my eyes’ from ‘Calico Skies’ (Flaming Pie, 1997).
7. His thunderous bass part and harmony vocal which add so much weight to ‘Don’t Let Me Down’ (Beatles b-side, 1969).
8. The way he turns the clock by to 1965 and recreates his Little Richard voice in the final seconds of ‘Angry’ (Press to Play, 1986): “Angry baby, I’m angry baby…”
9. The melancholy but life-affirming “Looking through the backyard of my life/Time to sweep the fallen leaves away” intro to ‘Promise to You Girl’ (Chaos and Creation in the Backyard, 2005).
10. How his voice explodes in the ‘Hear me lover…” section of ‘The Pound is Sinking’ (Tug of War, 1982) before giving way to hollow, heartbroken resignation a few seconds later. Spinetingling stuff.
11. His lush orchestral arrangement for Ringo’s version of ‘Stardust’ (Sentimental Journey, 1970), especially the dreamy strings adorning the line “when stars are bright”.
12. The meaty, aggressive, booming bassline which underpins ‘It’s All Too Much’ (Yellow Submarine, 1969).
13. The outrageous chord changes, infectious humour and sly musical motifs which run through ‘Famous Groupies’ (London Town, 1978). No one else could produce a song like this.
14. That Indian intonation in his vocal harmony part during the fade-out of ‘I Want To Tell You’ (Revolver, 1966). A typical added splash of colour which lifted Beatles songs above everyone else’s.
15. The jaw-dropping coda he casually throws on the end of ‘Rock Show’ (Venus and Mars, 1975). For most songwriters, it would be a towering achievement in itself; for Paul, it’s just an added extra he couldn’t fit into the main song and didn’t want to go to waste.
16. His stately piano line which runs through ‘Heather’ (Driving Rain, 2001) like a clear, refreshing mountain stream. Yes, I know it’s about she-who-must-not-be-named, but it’s beautiful nonetheless.
17. That acrobatic bassline which powers ‘Goodnight Tonight’ (Wings single, 1979). And the silky smooth vocal over the top of it isn’t bad, either.
18. The lines “No one was saved” in ‘Eleanor Rigby’ (Revolver,1966), “Standing alone at the top of the stairs” in ‘She’s Leaving Home’ (Sgt. Pepper, 1967) and ‘There is still a light that shines on me’ in ‘Let It Be’ (Let It Be, 1970). They get to me every time.
19. His sweet falsetto on the final verse of ‘Distractions’ (Flowers in the Dirt, 1989), especially on the line: “Where we could spend our nights counting shooting stars”. Exquisite.
20. The epic, fiery crescendo to ‘Nineteen Hundred and Eighty-Five (Band on the Run, 1973), a masterclass in building musical drama. His scat singing is awesome.
21. The glorious “Oh yeah!” sections of ‘C’Mon People’ (Off The Ground, 1993), especially the second run-through when the vocals are given a grand orchestral backing.
22. His powerhouse drumming on the climax of ‘Dear Prudence’ (The Beatles, 1968). I tend to think his drumming is competent rather than brilliant, but it’s absolutely brilliant here.
23. The haunting additional acoustic guitar part on the second “It’s there, it’s round…” section of ‘One of These Days’ (McCartney II, 1980). So subtle, yet so perfect.
24. The lyric “Too many people preaching practices/Don’t let them tell you what you want to be/Too many people holding back/This is crazy and baby, it’s not like me” in ‘Too Many People’ (Ram, 1971). It have originally been partly intended as a dig at John and Yoko, but its wider relevance to the world around us grows with each passing year.
25. His insane screaming vocal at the end of ‘Long Tall Sally’ (The Beatles Live at the Star Club, Hamburg, 1962).
26. ‘The World You’re Coming Into’ (Liverpool Oratorio, 1991). How can he write something so moving from the viewpoint of any expectant mother? Ridiculous.
27. His electric guitar playing on ‘Alligator’ (New, 2013), which fizzes with nervous energy and makes the song better on every listen.
28. The way ‘Maybe I’m Amazed’ (McCartney, 1970) teases you with a false ending. You’re already on the floor after three minutes of raging emotion, then he delivers another gut punch with that stirring finale.
29. The gorgeous pause and chord change when he delivers the “Mary loves the lamb, you know” punchline in ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’ (Wings single, 1972).
30. His wild, unfettered vocal on ‘Honey Hush’ (Run Devil Run, 1999), rocking like his life depended on it. Sounding like a teenager, at 57. Intoxicating.
31. The lyric “A pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray/And though she feels as if she’s in a play…she is anyway” on ‘Penny Lane’ (Beatles single, 1967).
32. The pacy but achingly wistful middle section of ‘Ever Present Past’ (Memory Almost Full, 2007): “It flew by, it flew by…in a flash.”
33. His swagger and supreme confidence as he leads the band through the closing part of a sublime ‘Letting Go’ (Wings Over America, 1976).
34. His breathless, tumbling delivery of ‘I’ve Just Seen A Face’ (Help!, 1965), perfectly capturing the rush of falling in love.
35. The world-weary “My heart is breaking for you little lamb” section which ends the main body of ‘Little Lamb Dragonfly’ (Red Rose Speedway, 1973), leading into the sweeping, soaring fade-out.
36. His nonchalant but delightful whistling in ‘My Very Good Friend The Milkman’ (Kisses on the Bottom, 2012).
37. The song-within-a-song middle segment of ‘No Values’ (Give My Regards to Broad Street, 1984), a twisting, emotional detour which surely harks back to his relationship with John: “In the darkest of nights/We were two of a kind…”
38. The astonishing mixture of yearning, tenderness and bottomless resolve in his vocal for ‘Golden Slumbers’ (Abbey Road, 1969).
39. The way he pulls together all the different strands of vocals and instrumentation rippling through ‘Deep Deep Feeling’, the magnum opus of McCartney III (2020), to create a moody, intense soundscape. Still breaking new ground after 60 years.
40. His chutzpah at signing a record-breaking deal with Columbia Records in the US and on his first album with them including a track featuring just an old man reading random literary selections over (an admittedly lovely) piano and strings backing in ‘The Broadcast’ (Back to the Egg, 1979).
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